Sound the Bugle
by Glenstorm
Summary: After the events of ROTS, Obi-Wan grieves for the loss of his life.


**Title:**Sound the Bugle  
**Author:** Glenstorm  
**Timeframe:** Just after ROTS.  
**Summary:** Obi-Wan grieves on Tatooine for the loss of his life.  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me. Everything belongs to George, except the song which belongs to Brian Adams (I think).  
**Author's Note:** I know this story has been done many times before and I apologise for dragging over old ground , but I was watching _Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron_ with my sister and when I heard this song it made me think of Obi-Wan so much at this terrible time in his life that I had to write a story to go with it. Woefully unoriginal as it might be.

* * *

_Sound the bugle now - play it just for me  
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be  
Now I can't go on - I can't even start  
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart_

_I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight  
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...  
Or leave me lying here. . ._

_-_

Silence.

Just the sound of the wind howling past the sandy walls of the hovel. And to the sole living occupant, it had the sound of a lonely instrument playing some lament for his ears only.

Obi-Wan gave a tired sigh as he lay upon his hard cot. The sound was fitting somehow. A weary backdrop to the funeral he held in his hollowed heart. A funeral that would never cease as long as he carried on existing.

_Anakin . . ._

The name reverberated inside his aching mind and stung the mortal wounds across his soul.

He had lost him. His Padawan. His best friend. His brother.

He had failed him.

And in doing so had failed everyone and everything he had ever cared about.

The names of those fallen marched the unending paths through his thoughts each night and each burning day, pushing the dagger of guilt and grief ever further into his empty heart. They were there even now. Faces playing behind his eyes like a repeating holo. . .

_Qui-Gon, Siri, Bant, Mace, all his dear friends, the Masters, the children . . . Anakin. . . Obi-Wan-- _

Yes. Obi-Wan.

It was true. For certain Obi-Wan Kenobi had perished along with his brethren, in the very instant his lightsaber had scorched through Anakin's flesh, dropping him to the furnace where he had watched him burn inside and out.

No, Obi-Wan was dead and in his place stood Ben. A lonely hermit scratching a living from the parched sands. A mere shadow of the Jedi Master that had once been.

But he remembered. And, maybe, that was the cruelest curse of all.

He recalled his life before darkness descended.

Padawan to the great Qui-Gon Jinn. Master to the Chosen One. Him sitting on the Council among some of the most revered beings that had ever lived, startled and undeserving. His missions. His triumphs and failures. Joys and sorrows. And through it all the sound of a rich laugh at his side--

Choking back a sob, Obi-Wan buried his face in his dry hands, trying to shut everything out along with the accusing light streaming endlessly from the dusty window.

He did not know how his heart could carry on beating when it held this much pain. Especially when the body in which it resided could not even face the start of another morning.

What was he doing here anyway?

Guarding Luke? Ha! If the Empire wanted the infant then there was nothing a broken old hermit was going to do to stop them.

Obi-Wan dug his knuckles into his eyes. Trying to blot out the pain with the physical discomfort. All he wanted was for that dagger of grief in his heart to finish its business and finally kill him so he could be gone from this place.

But if the Force would not grant him that mercy then a least to be left alone to lie here with his memories; for that was punishment enough.

-

_Sound the bugle now - tell them I don't care,  
There's not a road I know - that leads to anywhere,  
Without a light I fear that I will - stumble in the dark,  
Lay right down - decide not to go on._

_-_

Night was falling steadily as Obi-Wan made it back across the swiftly cooling sands. Tatooine had just experienced its ritual double sunset and the moons were peeking into the sky, freed at last from the blistering stare of their twin counterparts.

Luke was safe for another day. During his own nightly ritual Obi-Wan had watched from a discreet distance as the baby boy played, crawling around the sunken pit of the homestead beneath his aunt's watchful eye.

The child's antics had almost pulled a smile from his careworn face.

Almost.

At one time it would have, but not now. Such expressions had been left behind in another time.

Finally reassured for another day of the child's well being Obi-Wan had left swiftly. He had not wanted to risk being seen by Owen. Luke's uncle only tolerated his presence so far and Obi-Wan did not want to jeopardise the distant contact he had now by stepping on the farmer's toes.

It was not much but it was enough to check on the baby's progress.

And Obi-Wan was not disappointed with what he sensed from the infant.

He was strong. Even now he could feel it. Luke positively glowed with the Force. He shimmered, just like--

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, the thought halted him in his tracks as a fresh wave of grief rolled over him. He rocked on his feet until he finally managed to release the emotion into the Force.

But as it passed, another feeling was left in its place. A bitter tang in his mouth and Obi-Wan recognised it immediately.

Fear.

He saw such great potential in Luke, but where would he lead him. Down the same path as his father? Obi-Wan sighed. The galaxy was shrouded in darkness, no light or hope was left to guide him.

He was cut off from Yoda. The ancient Master was far away. Concealed safely in his own exile.

So that left only--

Obi-Wan shied away from the prospect. Yoda had given him the knowledge, but he had not used it.

At first he had been filled with joy at the thought of speaking with Qui-Gon again, a joy that had held the power to momentarily override the crushing grief he had felt after Anakin's fall and the murder of the Jedi.

In the thirteen years since his death, Obi-Wan had never stopped missing his Master

But that joy had slowly turned to dread. How could he face Qui-Gon again, knowing how he had failed him? Guilt clawed at his stomach. He could not do it. Not yet.

And so here he was, alone, watching over the hope of the galaxy. Fearing to stumble in the darkness.

Obi-Wan stopped his slow progress and cast his gaze to the stars. So many roads he had travelled in his life. But not one of them lead to anywhere now.

Against this shroud of darkness what could he do.

Obi-Wan lowered his tired blue-green eyes. Maybe it was best that he left here. Went somewhere far from Luke and let the Empire find the great General Kenobi at last. He did not care. And Luke would be safer without him.

He would only end up leading the little boy to disaster - just like his father. And what if Vader sensed him, so close to the child--

"Ever the worrier you were, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan started violently. With a soft cry he whirled around, automatically searching for the rugged face that went with that dearly familiar voice. But there was nothing. The desert around him was a empty as before.

"No," came the amused tone. "I haven't the power to let you see me. That is something you must learn in time. But I am here, my Padawan."

And Obi-Wan knew it to be true. He could feel it surrounding him. The serene presence that had steadied him, strengthened him, loved him ever since he had been that young boy of twelve, and had left him adrift for so many years when it had been snatched away from him too soon.

_Qui-Gon._

Overcome, Obi-Wan dropped to his knees in the sand. Tears spilled unheeded from his eyes. "Master," the word fell from his lips in a mere whisper.

The smile could somehow be sensed. "Yes."

The presence drew closer. Ghostly arms wrapped themselves about him as the breath of fingers brushed over his damp cheek--as real as in the days when they had been sculpted from flesh and bone.

And that was all that was needed to push Obi-Wan over the edge. The dam inside him crumbled and all the pain and anguish that had been pent up in his heart since that fateful mission came pouring forth as he sat there in his Master's phantom embrace. Such a release as he had not allowed himself since Qui-Gon's death.

He wept for everything, everything in his life that he had ever loved and lost. He felt sure he would drown in the tide.

Through it all Qui-Gon remained silent, quietly filtering the calm of his presence into his Padawan's shattered soul, strengthening him until the tears ran their course and the last of the shuddering sobs had left Obi-Wan's body.

"Thank-you," Obi-Wan murmured finally as he pulled back. "I'm sorry, Master."

"For what, my Padawan?" The deep baritone seemed to come from a distance but be all around him at once.

"For failing in the last promise I ever made to you," Obi-Wan swallowed. "I could not train Anakin, I could not reach him and because of that I've brought about the destruction of the Jedi and freedom in this galaxy." Obi-Wan's throat closed, coming to near breaking point again as the true extent of his sins came forth, hanging terribly in the night air between them.

For a long while his Master was silent. But instead of feeling the bite of reproach and accusation as he had expected, Obi-Wan only detected a sense of deep sorrow and regret radiating from his Master's spirit.

He fancied he could almost see the sadness in oceanic eyes as Qui-Gon finally spoke. "He chose his own path, Obi-Wan. No one else chose it for him."

"But I was his Master. I was supposed to guide him away from such a choice. If only I'd have just listened more. Been more mindful of his fears, of what he was going through. Done _something_. . ." Obi-Wan's voice trailed off, scorn for himself began to rise over his pain. "It would have been better for everyone if that Sith had killed me on Naboo. You should have been the one to train him, Qui-Gon, as you wished. Then Anakin would have--"

"Obi-Wan!" Now there _was_ a bite of reproach in his Master's voice. "Do not talk like that! _Ever!_ Do you claim to be so wise as to see to the end of every path? Even when Master Yoda could not? I would not have thought you so arrogant."

Contrite, Obi-Wan hung his head.

Qui-Gon's tone softened in the face of his misery as he continued. "And. . . how do you think I would have felt had you been the one to fall, Padawan? I lost one apprentice. I could not lose another. Not even for the Chosen One could I have borne losing you, my Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked up through the fresh tears running silently down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered once more, meaning for so much more than just the outburst.

The echo of a hand pressed his shoulder in reassurance and Obi-Wan leaned into it, hungry for the comfort that he had been without for so long.

"We all made mistakes, my Padawan." Qui-Gon said after a moment. "But what is done is done and we cannot afford to look back. No matter how hard, you are _still_ a Jedi and you will go on. One candle is enough to hold back the darkness. Luke is the hope for the galaxy now and you must be there to guide him on the first steps towards his destiny."

Obi-Wan shook his head softly. "But what if I just end up leading him down the same path as I led his father. All will be lost."

"That is your fear talking again, Padawan. Have you forgotten everything you were ever taught in your advancing age?" said Qui-Gon, amusement crept back into his tone.

Obi-Wan's mouth twitched into an almost smile as he absently brushed a hand through his rapidly greying hair.

Phantom fingers gripped his shoulder again. "Learn from the mistakes of the past, Obi-Wan, but do not let them rule you. I sense that a change is coming and you deserve to be there to usher in the light of a new hope. Only then you can rest."

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted closed, as if saviouring the glimpse of an unexpected oasis on the horizon of the endless desert. _Rest._

"I've missed you, Master." he said softly. "Everyday since you were taken from me at the hands of that Sith Lord."

"And I you, my Padawan. The Force will never be complete until you are returned to my side. But you are still needed and for now you must weather this darkness, like I know you can. Like the Jedi that you are."

Obi-Wan snorted. He felt a far cry from the Jedi he had been. He was bone weary, he felt as if he had aged a hundred years in the space of a month. But he could deny his Master nothing.

He straightened his back and wiped his face clean of tears with the sleeve of his worn robe. Then with a new strength that he did not yet feel himself, he said, "I will do my best, Master."

He sensed Qui-Gon's smile through the Force. "Of that I had no doubt. You always did wish to please me too much." The ghost of a kiss was brushed over his brow. "Know that I am proud of you, Obi-Wan."

His presence began to fade and Obi-Wan realised his Master was preparing to leave him for a second time--and he was not ready. "No! Not yet. Don't leave me, Master."

A soft chuckle. "I never have, my Padawan."

Then despite Obi-Wan's best efforts to hang on to him, Qui-Gon withdrew just as quickly as he had come, his presence fading away into the eternal tide of the Force.

For a moment Obi-Wan floundered in the absence, his heart and mind crying out as his Master left him a second time.

But somehow the pain of separation wasn't as profound as it had been on Naboo. It was softer, padded, as if deep down his heart finally knew that Qui-Gon was still with him. Watching over.

His last words echoed in his mind. _I never have, my Padawan. . . _

Obi-Wan sighed. His Master always saw to the truth of the soul better than he did.

For a long time Obi-Wan knelt, the coarse sand grating into his knees as he battled with himself and his inner thoughts. Now that Qui-Gon's steadying presence had withdrawn, all of his fears seemed to rise up once more, striving to cloud his heart with doubt. Desperately he tried to clear it, to find the courage he needed, the strength to face the task that he had set himself so quickly all those weeks ago back on the Senator's ship.

_Still a Jedi . . . _

The silent moons kept their patient watch overhead, illuminating the lone figure in the sands.

_One candle _. . .

Finally the stubborn determination that had seen him through a thousand hardships won out and Obi-Wan lifted his chin.

The grief still pulled at him but with an effort he pushed it back. His Master had faith in him to do this task and had reminded him of his purpose: to bring about a new era of the light. And no matter what, or how hard it seemed, that was something worth carrying on for.

Obi-Wan rose to his feet and lifted his face skyward, staring back at the moons. And for the first time in a long while, a faint smile danced across his face.

-

_Then from on high - somewhere in the distance,  
There's a voice that calls - remember who you are,  
If you lose yourself - your courage soon will follow,  
So be strong tonight - remember who you are._

You're a soldier now - fighting in a battle,  
To be free once more - yes, that's worth fighting for.

_Fin_


End file.
